Time Lords of Callenish

A few posts back I posted an image I created from a photo of the Stones of Callenish on the Orkney Islands in north Scotland by The World According to Dina.

The photos Dina took are awesome and so sensitive to the energies of the stone circle, the best I’ve seen of this amazing creation.

The image above is created from another photo of the Stones of Callenish which Dina took, and this time I was reminded of their power and energy as Time Lords – they look for all the world like beings of stone holding the circle to stabilise energy currents flowing throughout this planet.

Healing Springs of the Fae


The title is pretty much self-explanatory and derives from more fun-filled hours with Toolwiz on my Lenovo tablet.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Once in a Blue Moon

once-in-a-blue-moon I was looking at this image and wondering about a title when my husband wandered in, looked at the digital art and said: “What are you going to call this? Once in a Blue Moon?”

And I thought: “Spot on, mate!”.

Because I created this piece of digital art from a photo I had of a waterfall at Durness in far north Scotland and, as far as I’m concerned, I would only visit this village again once in a blue moon.

Why? Well, my then boyfriend and I toured Scotland prior to travelling to Australia for a working holiday in 1972 (and I stayed 40+ years!), and as we heading from east to west across the top of Scotland, we decided we’d stop off at Durness.  Except it was so small (got no idea if it’s grown since then) that we almost missed the small sign pointing to what was then a tiny settlement.

We hopped out of our car, freezing in the bitterly cold wind whizzing around our heads, and rushed into the pub we’d tracked down looking for a meal and a warm-up. Well, the meal wasn’t bad, standard pub fare of the time, but all the windows were wide open, the place was absolutely freezing, and all the locals were standing around in heavy-duty sweaters (not even coats, they were impervious to the cold) not taking a bit of notice of the cold wind whistling around the interior of the pub.

We stuffed the food down our throats and were out of that pub like greased lightning and hared off down the road with the car heating turned to the highest possible. There are two times I’ve felt as cold as this since: in early 1978 when we went to China and went out onto an oil field where the temperatures were -27C; and in 2002-3 when we lived in Rosehearty on the north-east coast of Scotland up from Aberdeen and near Fraserburgh, where a bitterly old wind from the Arctic seemed to blow incessantly. When the locals started sunbaking in shorts and singlets at 16C, we looked at each other (we’d moved from sub-tropical Queensland, Australia), said: “We’re outta here” and moved down to the north of England to live!

As it happens, I can see the Old Fae of the falls looking out, protecting the landscape and pouring her energy into revitalising the earth, and I honour her. But no, like I said, I’ll go back to Durness once in a blue moon!